


Never Had to Say Goodbye Before

by SpiritKitten



Series: Tubbo's dead... I guess [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, Youtubers
Genre: Angst, Child Death, Child Neglect, Dadza, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Memorial speeches, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Past Child Abuse, Phil is being the best dad that he can, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Slight fluff, Tubbo is dead, Wakes & Funerals, mention/signs of insane Wilbur Soot, tommy is not okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritKitten/pseuds/SpiritKitten
Summary: He’s perfectly fine with having Phil as a parent, especially since he was practically adopted by him immediately afterwards. He never even got those weird orphan-y feelings people are always talking about…. It’s just- It’s just that he’s never actually attended a funeral before….He’s never had to deal with one.... Never had to attend one. Not one he could remember anyways…
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, brief - Relationship
Series: Tubbo's dead... I guess [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079192
Comments: 16
Kudos: 156





	Never Had to Say Goodbye Before

**Author's Note:**

> Tubbox- Tubbo in a box: What will Tommy do?
> 
> Tw: This is a platonic book/series and should no way be taken as romantic. This is PLATONIC, please be respectful to the Tommy and Tubbo as they do not like the ship.
> 
> Blep blop blep anyways Sorry this took so long to make- School and stuff sucks, I hope you enjoy though I certainly did.

Parents.

He’s been thinking about parents a lot.

About… _ real _ parents.

Not Phil-... not the adoptive kind. The…  _ biological _ kind.

Tommy never got to know his real parents, not really. Just a single memory….

Just a single insignificant memory of him in a car seat. Just a single one of his mother whispering quietly to his dad to make sure they wouldn’t wake him up… so that they wouldn’t disturb him. Soft words, barely even comprehensible, as trees passed by the shiny window. Headed somewhere… somewhere far away from everything….

Don’t get him wrong… he doesn’t obsess over them. No, he doesn’t even think back on them that often. He’s perfectly fine with having Phil as a parent, especially since he was practically adopted by him immediately afterwards. He never even got those weird orphan-y feelings people are always talking about…. It’s just-

It’s just that he’s never actually attended a  _ funeral _ before….

He’s never had to deal with one before.. Never had to- to attend one. Not one he could remember anyways…

He was three when it happened. When his parents died…. Some kind of attack on the village they lived in, a zombie hoard. That’s what Philza had said at least…. It’s what they all said. Two months later he was holding Wilbur’s hand as they left the adoption center, smiling cheerfully up at his new father.

He doesn’t even remember the funeral! He was to fucking young too… to small.

He- uh, he’s even been to another one too, but Tommy doesn’t exactly count that one either… He was six when it happened… he didn't even know the man. He was just Philza’s friend, a man he barely even got to know before he was gone. Doesn’t even remember getting dressed and shit, just sitting with Philza and his older brothers. He’s mostly just heard about it from Wilbur and Techno.

He’s been to funerals- But he’s never  _ been _ to one.

Tommy has never had to deal with a-  _ a death _ before. Not one that counted anyways.

Well…. Now he could say that wasn’t true… Now he could finally tell people that, yes, he’s been to one. He’s been to one and it was the worst day of his awful life…

He can hear Wilbur mumbling to Phil behind him, the hand resting on his shoulder clenching and unclenching with each breath whispered against the back of his head. Feel the soft wind tug at his carefully brushed down hair and birds chirping at him from above.

He’s looking at the ground… at the grass.

He doesn’t want to look… doesn’t want to see them doing it… doesn’t want to see  _ him _ , see Tubbo  _ dead _ . He knows if he does then it’ll just bury itself into his memory. He’ll never- he’ll never  _ get it out _ . It’ll be stuck there until the day that he can join the other himself.

He knows what they are doing, can hear them doing it. Can  _ feel _ them doing it in his heart, in his legs and arms. Each crackle and thump of soft gravel and dirt collapsing over each of their feet as they lowered Tubbo into the pit below them. Can feel Dream’s sadness and hear Sapnap’s quiet frustrations as he sniffled and growled under his breath… 

They were the only two who volunteered to do it….

Philza once told him that there were supposed to be 6 people lowering the casket… supposed to be the closest friends to the person being buried, that it was.. that it was an honor to be a part of the walk. It was something symbolic of life or some shit. You carried me through life you I’ll carry you through death.. or some shitty poetic line like that...

Tommy couldn’t do it though. He couldn’t- he- He just  _ couldn’t _ . Phil and Wilbur had tried, believe him they did, but all it did was make Tommy all queasy and sick….

Instead Dream’s helping Sapnap do it so that no one else would have too… Because no one else wanted to either.

Tommy can tell that they were doing their best, that they were handling his friend with the best care that they could. But… but he could also tell that the death had hit them too hard as well. 

There were half dried tears molded to the sides of Dream’s face, his mask hilted to the side like he had tried to rub away the sticky mess under his eyes. Each movement silently pleading to step away into someone else's arms… There were crinkles and tears in Sapnap’s shirt where he was ruffling them up before the event, each holding back soft whimpers as Dream tried holding in his sob.

Both were tired as hell and ready to move on, Tommy could clearly see the bags sewed into the pocket under Sapnap’s eyes… it was… different… terribly different.

Tommy frowned, watching a ladybug settle onto a blade of soft dewy grass. It’s bright red body stands out against the cooler colors behind it. Dewy beads of water sticking to its legs, holding on desperately as it cleaned it’s toes and fingers delicately. Can see the way it’s antenna flickered and danced at him as it watched Tommy contently from it’s post.

Wilbur’s voice rises behind him for a second, the word traitor spilling from his lips quickly before he was shushed by Philza. A hushed silence falls over them, Wilbur's shaking hand tightening painfully on his shoulder, squeezing harder with every second. Tommy holds his breath, teeth trembling into his lips as Phil growled something out as the pressure was released quickly.

Tommy swallows hard, eyes crinkling tiredly as he shut them. There was a certain tension in them, swollen behind his lids like a broken leg. And no matter how much he tried, no matter how much sleep and rest he gave them, they always seemed to pulse. Just like a heart.. Always that same beat- the *Budump* *Budump* *Budump* right behind his eyelids...

Taking a breath Tommy shook his head, shaking the thoughts out of his mind, tilting his gaze off to the side. He can see Dream walking away to stand next to a tree, Sapnap curling up against George and Karl. They all seem so… close. He would guarantee that Quackity would be up there comforting as well if he was here...

But… Quackity- Quackity and Schlatt had been too sick to attend… too tired to get out of their cots in the common house. Quackity had tried- tired so desperately… but Niki made him stay after he pulled a stitch in his side. Schaltt, according to Phil, had been asleep. He’s been asleep for a while now, a  _ very  _ long time. Tommy kind of envied him… envied that chance of him never waking up again….

Tommy sighed tiredly, eyes darting up to stare at the clear sky above them. The barest hints of the Smp on the horizon flash into his eyes, just behind a thick layer of trees…. Flapping birds catch his eyes, chirps and squeals of glee echo in his mind as they playfully tagged each other in the air..

They would be doing that… him and his friends would be doing that...

...everyone was so so silent…

They were… they were so _ silent _ .

Sighing he hunches into himself, shoulders tensing together as his eyes closing yet again as he focuses on the cool morning air. It caresses his skin like a blanket, all peaceful and shit. It wasn’t as cold as this morning had been…But still very cold. Kinda reminded him of Wilbur's coat thrown against the back of his chair, the dark lengths wrapped around the edges...

He’s been sitting there longer than anyone else had been.. Longer than he would like to admit. If Philza had known then he would probably get a lecture, but thankfully the man had been too preoccupied with setting everything up...

In that amount of time alone… he’s realized a few things:

Number one- The world doesn't give a single shit about them.

He’s been sitting there for hours… for fucking hours and yet not a single sigh from the gods themselves that they gave a shit about Tubbo’s death. Not a single cloud or bad buzzing insects.. In fact it seemed like it  _ enjoyed _ the pain and sadness this day brought them. Each sunny chirp of the bird, each single piece of beautifully colored grass mocked him with their- their _ joy _ .

Number _ two _ \- Death was some kind of weird fucking illusion:

That may seem like a weird statement but it was true- It  _ was _ .

Death doesn’t feel real, it doesn’t feel like Tubbo is dead- It just doesn’t! He’s searched every fucking inch of his head for the reason and slammed the memory of his dead body back into it’s place but- but- sometimes Tommy still expects him to be there, he still expects Tubbo to show up out of nowhere!

He told Philza about it, desperately asked him what was making it hurt so bad, asked him why he felt this way- and- and-.... Phil told him that it was just his brain…. Just his brain trying to make it stop.... make it stop hurting. That his brain was trying to stop the pain of Tubbo’s death by making him _ real _ again.

….It sounds cheesy, doesn't it. 

Believe him, he knows that… and yet…

Tommy’s eyes drag lines in the grass, finding the sprays of littered dirt and pebbles where Ponk and Puz had thrown the extra dirt out... Eyes rolling over the deep hole, trying to find the dark brown casket of his friends’ corpse… and yet the ditch was too deep. It had been dug six feet into the ground after all…

There was no way he could see him…

He’d never get to see his friends again… he’d never get to see _ Tubbo  _ again.

Swallowing down his cry Tommy blinked wet tears out of his eyes, furiously rubbing at the tingly patch of skin under his eyes. God.. did he have to be such a crybaby! He couldn’t stop the quiet sniffles from draining out of his throat. Just covered his face with one of his hands, the other digging into the material of his jeans...

Absently he realizes that Wilbur and Phil are gone, somewhere off to his left talking together behind a tree… absently he realizes that he doesn’t  _ care _ ...

He hears someone shuffling, chair creaking as they move past him. Each step is met by insufferable whispers of wind and tired sighs of encouragement… Whoever it was must be taking the stand to get on with the memorial speeches…

...whatever...

Glancing to the right he sees Bad scuffle up to stand on their bench, his and  _ Tubbo's  _ bench, through watery tears. The birch wood haphazardly places in front of the thick grave like a sick podium. It was the only thing the other could think of for a stage. None of them wanted to use the mics from the festival.. _ So _ …

Tommy didn’t really care though, other than a mild protest when it first happened. It’s not like they could use it anymore… His Tubbo was dead after all. He would never be able to bring himself to sit there again… not without his friend.

Frowning Tommy ignored Bad’s soft crying, the way Skeppy mysteriously wandered up to make sure he was okay... Ignored everyone with a sad huff and angrily turned to watch the birds flickering about.

He relaxed his body, face pulling into an exhausted sigh. The pull behind his eyes sucking out his breath as he watched the birds flutter about above them. He couldn’t help but take another glance at the grave, feeling another person shift to the podium. Bad mumbled something at him, but Tommy didn’t hear it, just ignored him like the rest of them..

It made.. It made him  _ hurt _ . Hurt is a way he never thought he could before. Nothing like before, nothing like the dawning horror of having his best friend die in his arms, the sickening dawn over his eyes as he realized that he couldn’t do anything for him. Or the absolute hurt he felt as- as his family dragged him away from said friend… 

...No.. this was like a burrowing worm, soft sadness that penetrated every inch of his skin, every inch of his very being… Drilling holes into his mind, into his soul and very being. It was like the Dawn of a new day, a relaxation, a pull and heartbreak that he’d never get to see Tubbo again… That he’d never get to see-

Tommy’s breath hitched, eyes squeezing together as his mouth screwed up against this face. He- He hunkered down into himself, breath desperately hitching in his throat as he tried not to let the sob into the air. He can feel his hands shaking, shoulder shuddering under the pressure of his heart.

His brain shudders under the thought, breaking apart at the seams...

It was true… it was… He’ll never get to see Tubbo again. He’ll never get to see that face, never get to see his smile or the way he laughed or- or  _ fuck _ .

Tommy shook his head, grimacing at the thick globs of tears riding down the waves of his face, each setting fire to his gut just a little bit more. God…  _ God _ \- why the fuck did he have to die! Why did Tubbo have to go, why couldn’t he have just stayed- Why- Why-

Tommy bit his lip, wincing at the taste of his metallic blood.

Opening his eyes, he takes a shuddered breath. He can feel his eye lashes sticking together, tears hugging each lash like a lifeline. He tenses, feeling someone settle their hands against this back, only to relax as they press tiny circles into each of his shoulder blades. Gentle little circles…

Taking a deep breath, desperately trying to calm the ache crawling up his chest. Feeling the cold air rush past his lungs and setting them alight with fire as the rest of his tears slipped out of his eyes. He tilted his head back, eyes shut, leaning into whoever was there… leaning into the comfort.

Then, as he feels them pull away, he quickly opens his eyes. He finds Phil settling in front of him. Crouching down to his height, head tilting towards the ground sadly as he traced the edge of his chair with a delicate finger. Tommy shudders, eyes watching his father draw a pattern into it’s black sides. He had never been good with enchantments… yet another thing he had relied on Tubbo for, but he knew this one… protection…

With watery eyes Phil steadies his gaze up at him, eyes soft and warm. It was Phil. The man, his father, looked at him with such a soft concern. It made his heart ache for something that he could no longer have… Chest seizing tightly like a desperate cry for help.

Sniffling Tommy wipes at his eyes, hissing slightly when his dry fingers hit the capped edges of his face. Feeling just a bit embarrassed as he spots a few people glance at him at the movement, he shuffles in his seat to hide his face in the ground again. Eyes still teary as he tried to hide his reddening face.

“Tommy, mate, it’s fine.” Phil softly whispers, leaning up just a bit to make sure he heard it, “It’s okay to cry. It’s what funerals are for….”

“I thought they were for saying goodbyes..” Tommy croaks out, voice dull and crackly. He vaguely realizes that it’s the first time he’s spoken in days… the first time he’s actually spoken to his father in a while.

Phil snorts a little, a gentle sadness curling in the fingers of his hands as he pulls away softly, “Yeah… But it’s not like Tubbo’s actually here to hear what we're saying. It’s-” Tommy watches him pause, vision half blurred by old tears refusing to go away, “It’s more for us. The dead are already gone Tommy... But we want to remember them, so we give ourselves a place to.”

Humming Tommy turned away, bitterly sniffing. Throat burning with each noise drawn from his dry lips. What does it matter anyways.. It’s not like Tommy can change what happens in the world. He couldn’t, no matter how much he had he tried, how much he had he  _ wished _ for it too. He’ll always be there, in that moment with Tubbo.. He’ll always be waiting for the other to come back and there is nothing that he could do about it.

Tommy’s head shot up as someone awkwardly coughed. Eyes focusing on the makeshift stage as Phil shakily stood to settle next to his chair. There, standing weakly like he was about to fall at any moment, was Dream. He didn’t have his mask on, just staring down at Tubbo with a watery frown. His face pulled into a heartbroken frown.

He.. has been quiet these past few days…. Quieter than Tommy, and that was saying something. He honestly doesn’t know what was going on with him, well... other than the usual grief over Tubbo, but even Tommy knew something was going on beneath that noggin. Not that Tommy was about to ask. Not that he didn’t care that is, it's just that he was not ready to take on anything other than… Tubbo. He was still trying to get the blood off his hands, still too worried over the last few moments Tubbo had spent with him.

Sighing tiredly Tommy craned his head to the other side of the clearing. Watching the birds flutter about between each branch of the surrounding trees and soft morning dew slide off bright green grass sprouts… Spring was such an early time of year…

“Uh… We- We’ve all gathered here today to commemorate our fallen comrade and friend- Tubbo…” 

Tommy’s eyes flickered to Dream for a second, eyes following the shadow casted along his face from the nearby trees before they followed the movement of the birds again. Anything was better than just waiting for this god awful day to be over… better then saying goodbye for one last time...

Dream starts again, voice steadier than the last sentence he spoke, apparently drawing more confidence to get through it. It was definitely better than whatever Tommy was doing… just kinda- sitting there. 

“Tubbo was only sixteen when he died, but he had to be one of the liveliest person I have ever met.” 

Tommy took a quick glance at the grave again. Each speckle of dirt and splattering of dark pebbles clawing at his chest like a hook in his chest. Even Philza, who was still standing next to him, sighed tiredly at the words. 

“Hell.. I'm pretty sure most of us could agree to that!” Dream lets out an amused sort of chuckle, gaining a few of the others as well. “That’s not to say that he wasn’t one of the kindest people I know today… He was always there for others, even when he had more to deal with than some idiots problems- Even when he was faced by his own death…”

Suddenly Tommy’s faced with a thought- an imagine and feeling of Tubbo hugging him tightly in death. His short arms wrapped around his sides as he dried heaved into his chest… blood splattering into his cheeks as the other laughed and smiled wearily…

It makes his mouth go dry, tongue thick in his mouth as he winced to try and make it go away. Tubbo-... Tubbo was the best person, the  _ best _ , he had ever met. Nothing would change that, nothing in the world. 

Dream’s voice cracks as he starts up again, all unsteady and broken, “I- I wish I had done more for him while he was still alive-” His breath falters as Dream’s voice halts for a second, breaking up like a broken record, “I wish I- I could do more for him now… But- But now It’s time for everyone to say their goodbyes..”

Tommy looks up in confusion, expecting Dream to go on about Tubbo a little more, but finds the other quickly scrambling down into George and Sapnap. He collapsed with a quiet whimper, face burrowing itself into George’s neck as he hugged them both closely. He can hear them mumbling, tiny whispers comforting each other quickly.

Longing wormed its way into Tommy’s own heart, closing tightly against his lungs as he tried to take a quick breath… he bitterly tries not to cough when they seize, empty air taking control of his lungs and draining them of precious oxygen. 

Bestfriends- Bestfriends were hard to come by.. But now he didn’t _ have _ one to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay… 

It was quiet for a second, just a few moments, but Tommy feared that it would go on forever. He thought that maybe, because of what was going on, that the world had stopped. That they had just halted, not knowing what to do, not knowing if this new reality would work out correctly. He feared that it would continue- He feared that it would stay the same, that he would have to wake up tomorrow without him  _ again _ . 

But- but.. Just like he had said about nature, about the world that kept spinning, eventually Karl stepped forward to speak. In Fact a lot of people stepped forward to speak… but- Tommy didn’t hear most of it, just snippets, just words. They flew through his head like water trickling past a stream. Like thoughtless memories disappearing without a trace to his mindless whims. Every sentence stated flooded his head without meaning…

Until- 

_ Until- _

“Tommy-” He couldn’t help but jump, mind surging up frantically from whatever void he had managed to stumble himself into. Flinging his head back, heart pounding in his chest, he took a ragged breath as he flinched up at whatever was touching him.

He expects pain, expects someone to hit or yell at him, but is instead met with Wilbur’s surprised face. In fact he’s met with a lot of people, met with a lot of faces of worry and confusion. Even Phil was frowning down at him like he was some kind of crazy nutbag. He can’t help but blink, cheeks reddening as he scoffed and looked back towards the trees again.

“Tommy?” Wilbur taps his shoulder, fingers pressing insistently on his collarbone. He can’t help but grimace, still sore and tired from their last fight, from his and Tubbo’s last meeting, “Tommy, please. I know this is hard, but I thought you’d want to at least say something…”

...something?...

...Like what- What would he say to the man he failed, what would he say to the man that tried his best to save him but only to end up dying in response!?

What the fuck would he say to his goddamn  _ bestfriend _ !? What would he say!- What the  _ Fuck _ would he say-

He feels Wilbur pull back at his silence, hand resting on the chair behind him instead of directly placed on Tommy. He was glad for it, he was glad… Wilbur’s touch, no matter how soft or brief, was uncomfortable and hard.

Tommy shakes his head, bitterly avoiding his older brother's gaze. No, no he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t say anything, he shouldn’t because  _ he _ was the reason why Tubbo was dead. He was the reason why all of this happened! If he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t been alive, then Tubbo would still be here. Tubbo would still be laughing happily at everyone, would still be playing with his bees…  _ would still be living his life _ ..

He hears Wilbur grumble something, a soft sigh exiting the others mouth as he leaned forward into Tommy, “ _ Please _ , Tommy. You were-” he pauses for a second, eyes darting away, “- _ are _ his best friend. Tubbo would have wanted you too.”

Tommy can’t help but snort, bitterly crossing his arms across his chest, “Like  _ you _ would know what he wanted.”

It’s followed by a deafening silence, a few people shuffle around. He can hear a gasp, but was more focused on Wilbur’s trembling fingers, on the way his voice hitched as he whispered his next words, “ _ I- I know.. _ ”

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, tears suddenly forming in his eyes again. Fuck.. why did he- Why did Wilbur have to be so fucking-

“F- Fine.” He can feel Wilbur untense a little, see his eyes light up a little as he moves back to give him room to stand. 

His shaky hands came out to smooth out the soft wrinkled fabric of his suit a little. Wilbur smiled gently at him, all awkward and shit.He could still see the hurt waiting in the depths of his eyes, but… but it was better. His head tilted towards Phil for a second, but with a shake of his head, he stepped back to let Tommy 

He stared at the ground as he walked towards the bench, unwilling to meet everyone's eyes. Their god awful eyes are full of pity and hurt, each calling out to him like a beacon on fire. 

He halts at its rough sides, hands taking a second to run against the thick arm rests. He feels the knots and rigids, hoping painfully that he wouldn’t get a splitter… Hands trembling over a few scratches were Tubbo had broken off a piece trying to show him a pufferfish… whimpering softly at their names etched into the sides.

It’s.. fitting for the end isn't it?

They both met on that bench, and now they were partying on it…

Tommy shook his head, listening to the soft cries of a finch as he shuffled his way up onto it’s seat. He steadies himself for a moment, vaguely watching people sit back down or rest against each other. His skin prickles, face heating up slightly as their eyes peer up at him expectantly. Eyes, _so_ _many_ eyes…

Taking in a hitched breath Tommy lowered his gaze into the pit, eyes widening at the sight. His whole body shivered, breath halting in his chest as he took in the sight of his bestfriends’ dead body.

He was there… casket opened to let the speaker take one last look, one last goodbye-

He was holding a flower. It’s golden petals contrasting against his green suit like the light building of a mountain top… his striped tie hiding the concave hole in his chest where the firework had blown it open. Blood and gore wiped away to show his blemished skin. The burn scars peeking out of all the makeup trying to cover up the marks of his death…. Even his thick hair, which had somehow been styled to match Tommy’s, was brushed down thickly to cover the side that had the thickest part of the burns… 

It like _nothing_ had happened. Like none of this- like none of the pain and fear- the absolute horror they had both been through was _gone_ …

Letting out a shuttered breath Tommy whimpered, eyes crinkling harshly against the light pouring in from above him. They were unable to draw themselves away from Tubbo's sleeping body… unable to look away from his friend because he looked so-  _ so calm _ . Looked so peaceful and stress free… nothing like the man he had seen all those days ago...

“Hey mate?” It’s only when Phil reaches up to steady him that Tommy notices that he’s shaking, that he was jittering so much that he was almost halfway off the bench. “You don’t have to if you want.”

Blinking down at him, eyes darting to the hand cradled softly against his knee. He reaches down, chest shuddering as he tries to take comfort in the touch. He shakily sees Phil squint up at him, bitterly releasing that the tears had gathered up in his eyes again. The dawning light casting shadows across his fathers face, blocking his reaction and keeping Tommy in the dark. 

The wind softly ruffled against his hair, causing his striped bucket helmet to flap a little. He pulls away, head tilting away when Tommy shakes his head at him. He didn’t trust his throat to make a sound, didn’t trust himself not to cry out for Phil's help again. He- He needed to be strong. Needed to get through this without help.

He looks away, getting one last concerned look from his father, before he turns to look out at the clearing. It was overgrown, bushes and vines over taking the thick trees and flowers weasled in between the tall grass…

...It was beautiful... It was  _ perfect. _

Absolutely perfect… Probably the best place for a final resting ground that Tommy could think of. Tubbo would have loved it here, would have loved the colorful flowers dotted around them and the soft bees working along with them…

So, taking one last deep breath Tommy starts- 

“Tubbo was my best friend. Tubbo was probably my only friend for a while-” He sees Wilbur wince, head dropping to the ground as he shuffled back a little. He didn’t know how Techno would react to the words, especially since the other didn’t even bother to show up. “He was my only friend in this  _ god awful _ place-”

He chuckles a little as he watches a few people smirk or shake their heads tiredly, “It's true.. While everyone was so focused on making it out alive and being better than everyone else Tubbo was there. He was always there…” 

Tommy sighs sadly, eyes refocusing on the body, on  _ his _ body. Focusing on the bright hues and soft colors in his shirt. “Yeah.. sometimes he would need to leave, or  _ I-... I _ wouldn’t be there for him.. And I regret that but there's nothing I could do about it now… But I knew I could trust him. I knew that he would be there for me when I needed it, and he knew that about me too-”

Looking up he feels an arm slide up against this back. It’s length softly rolling across his back as he shudders against the crippling wind. It definitely wasn’t his fathers. It was smaller, more rounded out than Phil's, it also didn’t help that he could see his dad sitting back against the seats with WiI again… so yeah, this was someone else. Probably Sapnap or Jack, Tommy didn't care enough to find out, just took it for what it was and leaned back into it softly.

“I- I loved him, I loved him in a way that only a brother could. Like a desperate man stranded in the desert was for a drink of water. I spent my days thinking of ways to go out and meet him behind our Generals back, and wept for his safety at night…” He could hear Wilbur hitch his breath, feel the tension in the air as he continued. “.. We even had a plan, y’know.”

He can’t help but chuckle, self deprecating and low as he desperately searched his friend for any sign of life, “It was so stupid Y’know… it might have even worked if we had tried it…” he smiles sadly, eyes lifting to the crowd with lowered eyelids. “He had been so excited, so happy when I agreed to run with him, Y’know?”

He tilts his head, eyes filling with tears as he watches his friends, his family, all peer up at him. Each one expecting the story, each one wanting to hear what Tubbo and Tommy had planned. He turns from them, gazing up at the clouds dotting the soft blue sky. Eyed the soft looking birds playing above them, the way they laughed and dodged each other happily...

“He wanted to run away with me.” Tommy sighs, eyes closing wistfully at the happy memory of his laugh, of his cheery face and smile. He leaned back into whoever was comforting him again, feeling his insides warm up, something soft settling there in the pit of his heart. 

“He told me-” He can’t help but laugh, voice scratchy and rough, the barest hints of sorrow laid in with it. “- He told me that we could just abandon this entire place! That we could make a tiny bee farm in the middle of nowhere and leave the war behind us-”

Tommy takes a shuddered breath, opening his eyes to blink away tears. Annoyingly he finds them sticking to his eyelashes, eyes refocusing on his family. “He told me that we could be happy again.”

He smiles, watching their pliant faces draw up in shock and horror, happy enough to look away and see the same expressions on the others.

He smiled wider, eyes looking down at the pit. 

“It made me happy… seeing him happy.” He closes his eyes, feeling the arms on his back rub soft circles into his side. “I was happy… so happy to finally see his smile after so long..”

He smiles for a second longer, and then without a moment more he feels the hand draw away as his face settles into a frown again. Eyes sliding down as he stared at the floor, steadily climbing down without a moment more. He feels someone slide up against him, pulling him into a soft hug, but he doesn’t get to see their face before his eyes are completely closed. Before he blocks everything else out, before he finds himself back in that empty void of his…

“So?” Tommy’s eyebrow arches up at his friends, “No one was behind me during my speech?”

Sapnap laughs awkwardly, face peering up at his in concern as Karl knocks into him softly for a hug, “N- no?”

They were laid out across a white bed in the infirmary of the common house. Niki had pushed two different beds together for them. Quackity was resting peacefully against both of their sides, completely knocked out by whatever drugs he had taken before Tommy had arrived to visit them.

Frowning down at the floor Tommy shakes his head, fingers curling in the pockets of his pants as he hummed contemplatively. Wha- What? But he  _ felt _ someone there, he knew someone had to be there. It wasn’t just like some little touch, it was a full of arm, a full on hug!?  _ Someone  _ had to be there…

“I- Don’t know what to say to you man, no one was up there with you..” Sapnap pouts slightly as he throws his arm over Karl in a half-hug. Signing warmly when the other relaxed completely into it. “Maybe… you were over emotional or something?”

Tommy shakes his head, taking a deep breath as he looked away already making his way out the door, “Yeah… maybe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oof, Tommy be sad. I actually wrote the outlines for this way back when Tubbo first died in the festival but... yeah... I actually have the next part in the series made, but I knew I wanted to make a funeral first so I had to get this done first before I posted that one. It might be a little rushed, but I'm still proud of this. I hoped you enjoyed it as much as I did!
> 
> Anyway. If you liked this then please consider leaving a comment or kudo, they fuel me and let me know that people actually like these kinds of things. <3 thank you for reading!


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